Haven
by ChiTownFan
Summary: Chapter 6 uploaded ! The BAU find themselves traveling down to Red Rock Texas to advise the San Antonio FBI on a suspicious compound on the outskirts of town. Little do they know that it will soon turn into a race against time to save one of their own!
1. Chapter 1

_Thank you everyone for the warm and constructive feedback for my first Criminal Minds story Parallel Lines. Here is my second attempt! I'll try to upload a chapter a day at least, and please feel free to read and review at your pleasure._

Haven

Chapter 1- A Request for Help

"I appreciate you meeting with me on such short notice, Agent Hotchner," said the young agent as he entered the room. "We certainly could use your help on this one."

Hotch nodded as he motioned for the young man to sit down in the chair opposite his own across the desk.

"It's a long flight from San Antonio," he replied. "I gather it's something a little more complicated than what you're used to, Agent Jerrod?" The young man shook his head, his red hair glinting slightly in the glare of the office lighting.

"Normally, it wouldn't be much of a problem, but with the latest developments, we simply don't have the expertise that you guys do. At a minimum, we need some advice."

"Why don't you start at the beginning," reasoned Hotch. He tried desperately not to lead the agent. He didn't want to put words into his mouth. Agent Jerrod, seeing his impatience, nodded slightly.

"Right. First take a look at these,"

Agent Jerrod spread a series of satellite and aerial images over Hotchner's desk. The first one was dated two years ago, and the rest were dated every month, starting at six months prior to the present time.

"These images shows the town of Red Rock, here," said Agent Jerrod, pointing to a small intersection of a few roads surrounded by a few residential structures, and one or two larger buildings, most likely hotels. The surrounding area contained mostly rolling farmland, and quite a few isolated groves of trees. "The problem area is actually about twenty miles to the north, near these large buildings."

Hotchner picked up the oldest aerial photograph.

"It looks like some large barns," he said. Where was the agent going with this?

"Yeah, you're right. Originally the two buildings were used as a type of communal storage facility for the local farmers. About a year ago, however, the buildings and surrounding acreage were bought by a real estate development firm called Allen Holdings."

"So far, I'm not seeing a cause for concern," said Hotchner, his eyes showing puzzlement.

"I'm getting to that," replied Agent Jerrod. "I just wanted to give you a little background."

Hotchner sighed and nodded his head. He stole a not so subtle look at his watch.

"About six months ago, satellite images and aerial photographs started to reveal a lot of activity entering and leaving the area of the two buildings. There were a lot of trucks entering and leaving the complex, but no signs of development or construction."

"You think that someone is stock piling weapons?" ask Hotchner leaning forward. Some of the indications of such a situation did present themselves. But there were other explanations as well. Agent Jerrod shook his slightly in confusion.

"There's not enough evidence to support it," he replied. "And then there are the kids."

"Kids?" Hotch's eyes narrowed, his voice sharpening.

"Yeah. About two weeks ago, the locals started seeing kids, mostly teens and pre-teens hanging around the outside of the buildings. They don't belong to the locals, and some of them are figuring that they're part of some sort of cult."

How many?" asked Hotch, taking a second look at the latest aerial photograph.

"So far, about a dozen different kids," said Agent Jerrod.

"Any sign of them being ill treated?" Hotch still was trying to figure out why Agent Jerrod had flew all the way up from San Antonio for this. So far, the only thing he saw evidence of was some sort of retreat for teenagers out in the country. Even if his profiler's mind saw something suspicious, there wasn't any direct evidence of it.

"Not that we've found," he replied with a shake of his head. "We haven't been allowed into the compound."

"So you've had contact with the owners?"

"Well, we've had some contact with the person who runs the place. He calls himself Brother Michael. His real name is Michael Chanceton. As far as we know, he doesn't have any religious training, and hasn't registered as a church, at least not according to any record we've found."

"So you think that these kids are being held against their will? Brainwashed?"

"I really wish I could tell you what I thought, Agent Hotchner," he said with a shake of his head. "But here's the kicker. Brother Michael has invited the FBI, and only the FBI to come in and tour the facility. We're going to have complete access to everything, and my guess is that they're looking for a clean bill to present to the locals."

"You have qualified agents in San Antonio," said Hotch handed the pictures back to him. "Some of them have been trained by our group. Why don't you make use of their expertise?"

"Agent Hotchner, they're working on other cases. Believe it or not, there are a lot of crimes in and around San Antonio. My superiors don't feel comfortable taking them away from active cases if this turns out to be nothing." Agent Jerrod swallowed, and folded his hands in his lap.

"Look," he continued. "I'm not asking you guys to fly down there if you don't want to. If you could just advise me on what to look for when I visit the place. Or perhaps we can set up a video monitoring system. Bottom line is I have a bad feeling about this place, and I don't want to overlook something that is important."

Hotch sighed. He wished it was that simple. Often it was the experience in recognizing nuances that came through years of study and work in the field that were useful in situations like this. A few hours of lecture and study wasn't going to cut it.

"I'll bring this to the attention of the team," he answered, gathering the images together and placing them back into the folder. "Give me what you can on this Michael Chanceton, and we'll look at it. If we decide to take this case, we'll need to accompany you to the complex. What day is the visit scheduled?"

"It's scheduled for the day after tomorrow. At 10 AM."

Hotch nodded. That didn't give them a lot of time for preparation.

"Why don't you start for San Antonio, and start making preparations."

"So you'll help?"

"I'll see what I can do."


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2 – Debriefing and Decisions

Agent Hotchner met with the rest of the team in the main conference room at the BAU headquarters. It was a relatively slow week; he knew that just about everyone had finally caught up on their paperwork. JJ probably had a stack of new files and cases to present to the team, but for now, the lull was there, and Hotch meant to take advantage.

"Hi everyone," he greeted as he walked into the room. "We might have a case." With that he handed around copies of the files provided by Agent Jerrod. Quickly he went over what he and the agent had discussed.

Morgan frowned.

"I'm sorry, Hotch," he said leafing through the file. "I really don't see where we have probable cause to get involved."

"I know. That's why I can't officially ask the team to take on this case," said Hotch, rubbing the back of his neck.

"But something about it doesn't sit right, with you, does it?" asked Rossi, watching Hotch. He nodded curtly.

"There's no sign of construction, trucks are seen entering and leaving the compound over the last six months, and now teenagers, at least twelve of them are now seen around the complex."

"So you're thinking a cult of some sort?" asked Rossi, looking at the file. "Who is there leader? Cult leaders are usually larger than life. They love the spotlight. So far, this Brother Michael is staying well behind the scenes. There's barely been a peep out of him."

"Cult leaders tend to isolate their subjects from the outside world," added Reid, looking at the aerial photographs. "According to this information, there is no sign of attempts at separation."

"Red Rock is in the middle of nowhere," said Emily. "That might be deterrent for leaving. They have nowhere to go."

"It's a half hour drive to Austin," reasoned Morgan. "My guess is that they must have found a way to get there, probably from Austin. Are there any bus lines?"

"Intermittent at best, would be my guess," said Reid.

"So what do we do?" asked Emily, placing her folder on the desk in front of her.

"So you all agree that there is a potential problem here that we need to be proactive?"

One by one, everyone nodded their heads.

"Good. Remember, this isn't official, so if you don't want to, there won't be any repercussions."

"We got it Hotch," said Rossi, "this is off the books."

"Rossi, why don't you and Reid, and Prentiss, head down to Texas; work with the San Antonio field office. Treat the planned visit to the compound as a training exercise for the people down at San Antonio," said Hotch, his eyes traveling from one member to the next.

"What about the rest of us?" asked Emily. Her eyes searched the team.

"We'll work from here, finding more information on this Michael Chanceton. If either of us finds anything that further indicates a volatile situation, we'll make it official and come in with the reinforcements. Are there any questions?" He looked around to find everyone's faces ready for action. He felt a profound sense of gratitude that they trusted him enough not to steer them wrong.

"Ok. Rossi, Reid, Prentiss, please be ready to leave in twenty minutes."


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3 – Welcome to Red Rock

Reid, Prentiss and Rossi watched the landing strip approach out of the window. They were flying into a small airport, just outside of Smithville, Texas. There was one lone air traffic control tower, and Emily smiled when she noticed that it was unoccupied. They really were in the middle of nowhere. Reid shifted in his seat.

"I don't understand why we just didn't fly into San Antonio," he said, looking around at the wide expanses. The lack of civilization was both alluring and slightly uncomfortable to him.

"We would have had to drive an additional hour just to get back to where we are. This way, it's just a half hour."

"Has Garcia sent us any information on the unsub, or I mean potential unsub?" asked Emily.

"So far, he doesn't have a record," said Rossi. "He's originally from the San Francisco area, and moved down to Texas about three years ago. We can ask Agent Jerrod if the locals have had any contact with him."

With that, the plane landed, giving each one a slight jolt forward. Although she was used to flying, Emily's heart still instinctively skipped a beat when the final touch down came. As the plane taxied around the tarmac, Rossi noticed a black Suburban with a young man in a black suit and red hair leaning against the car. He looked entirely uncomfortable in this heat. Rossi smiled. He could spot a rookie agent a mile away.

They exited the plane, and Agent Jerrod met them half way to the car, offering to take an overnight bag from Emily. With a shrug, she allowed him to take the bag. It wasn't that heavy at all, but Agent Jerrod seemed eager to please. It was an endearing quality, but she could foresee it becoming a bit irritating.

"Welcome to Texas, I'm Agent Jerrod," he said, walking towards the car. "I imagine you want to get to the town, or at least to the nearest hotel."

"What about your men in San Antonio?" asked Rossi. "We're supposed to keep this as a training exercise."

"Oh, I know," Agent Jerrod answered. "I just figured that you would want to keep this close to the chest, so my superior and I invited only the team leaders to come out for a field training exercise. That way it doesn't look too much like a dog and pony show. Besides, maybe we can actually learn something from you guys."

Rossi smiled in spite of himself. He was beginning to like this red headed rookie.

"Have you had any contact with Mr. Chanceton?" asked Emily, leaning forward from the back seat. Agent Jerrod turned and shook his head.

"No, not since he came down here from San Francisco a few years ago. I mean, he's gotten a few speeding tickets, and other minor traffic offenses, but nothing that would make the man stand out."

"Has he spoken to the locals much?" asked Reid. So far this man wasn't fitting the profile of a cult leader. Where was the charisma? Where was recruitment of followers?

Again, Agent Jerrod shook his head. "He keeps to himself. He comes into town every once in a while to buy odds and ends from the local stores. There really isn't much here besides the hotel and a few shops. Most of the people around here either exist on their own, or travel to Austin for the bigger stuff. That's part of the apparent charm of this place."

"Don't you find it relaxing?" asked Emily. She couldn't believe that anyone would be uncomfortable in a place like this.

"Sure, it's beautiful country," he reasoned. "It's a little too isolated for my tastes, though. Ah, here we are. Welcome to the town of Red Rock."

If Jerrod hadn't said anything, Emily would have thought that she was riding through yet another collection of farms. The buildings were sparse and consisted of a few shops, some residences, and a number of small barns. The rest of it was rolling farmland. She fully expected a tumbleweed to roll across the road, and cheesy western movie music to start playing on the radio.

"Where would you like to go first?" asked Jerrod. "The appointment at the complex is tomorrow morning, and the hotel isn't that far from here. Or perhaps you would like to grab something to eat?"

Rossi smiled. He wondered what type of restaurants was in this town. No doubt some small diner serving sausage and gravy with mounds of grits.

"There's El Borrego De Oro, just up the road," said Agent Jerrod, motioning to a side road. "It's not bad food, Mexican, and relatively cheap."

For a very brief second, Rossi wondered if Agent Jerrod was a mind reader. Looking at the young man's face, he thought better of it.

"I think we just need to go to the hotel," said Rossi. Hopefully we can get WIFI access and get input from the rest of the team."

"Okay. My people are staying there as well." Agent Jerrod smiled. "The locals will think we're having some sort of convention."

*********

There was a knock on his hotel room door. The Comfort Inn was adequate for his needs; lord knew he stayed in much worse.

"Come in," he called.

Emily opened the door and walked into the room. Unconsciously, she took in the sight and smell of Rossi, something that reassured her. There was something so….so stable about him.

"Get settled in all right?" she asked as she walked into the room, her heeled boots making slight indentations into the carpet.

"Yeah, I had so much unpacking to do," joked Rossi with a slight smirk. Emily sheepishly returned his smile.

"So what's our game plan?" she asked. She turned to find Reid standing in the open door. With a quick gesture, she motioned him to come inside.

"Well, according to Agent Jerrod, the only people who know our true intentions are his supervisor and himself. So we should treat this like one of our college recruitment seminars."

"And I get to stand there and look pretty?" asked Emily, her eyes widening in mock pleasure. Reid looked at her strangely.

"That, and look for indication of why we're really here," said Rossi with a smile. "You know what we're looking for. The boy genius and I will keep the locals and the others occupied. You can take care of the rest."

"Oh, gee. Thanks."


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4 – A Visit to the Spider's Web

Emily watched a man walk out of the first building as their car approached the next morning. She was sitting in the front passenger seat, and Reid and Rossi sat in the back.

"Is that Michael Chanceton?" she asked, glancing at the man coming towards them. He was average height with black hair, slightly graying at the sides. His goatee was sprinkled with gray hair.

"That's him," said Jerrod, pulling the car to a stop. Emily looked between Mr. Chanceton and Rossi.

"He looks a lot like you," she said with a slight smile.

"Yeah, but I pull it off better."

Emily shook her head with a smile and got out of the vehicle. As the others filed out, she went over to the man, who smiled warmly at her approach.

"You must be one of the FBI," he said warmly, grasping her hand. He had a firm grip that immediately lessened when he saw a faint grimace pass over Emily's eyes.

"Yes, I'm Agent Prentiss," she said. "I take it you're Mr. Chanceton?"

"Please, call me Brother Michael," he said. "Sorry about the handshake." Emily nodded her head while slowly rotating her wrist and flexing her hand.

"This is Dr. Reid," she introduced as Spencer approached, "and Agent Rossi. I believe you've met Agent Jerrod and Agent Kincaid before?"

Brother Michael nodded his head, shaking his hands with each of the agents. "It's nice to see you again." He looked at Reid and returned his slight wave. Emily noticed that the man didn't seem offended or troubled by Spencer not extending his hand. Some people were.

"I see you've found my evil twin," Brother Michael joked as he nodded towards Rossi. It was remarkable how similar they looked. Here, the differences were noticeable, but at a distance, the two could potentially pass for cousins.

"Shall we get started, then?" asked Rossi. "The sooner we get started, the better in my book."

"Of course," said Brother Michael turning to walk toward the first building. He stopped short. "Oh, are your weapons secured? And do you have any sharp instruments?"

The team looked at him. Their side arms were visible in their holsters. They certainly weren't hiding anything. Brother Michael turned to them.

"I don't suppose I can convince you to hand over your side arms?" he asked hopefully. "It's for safety, of course."

"What exactly is it that you do here?" asked Rossi, slowly unhooking his holster. He had absolutely no intention of handing over his weapon, but he was intrigued that Brother Michael would insist on asking. Brother Michael stepped forward slightly. Upon seeing that the gun wasn't being removed, he sighed.

"I understand. I would request, though that you keep a distance between you and the kids we have here. They may try and take advantage."

"You haven't answered his question," Reid responded as they approached the first building. He looked around. The complex consisted of two large white buildings, and a white picket fence surrounding the entire area. The groundcover consisted of a mixture of grass, soybeans and wheat in various stages of growth.

"What we do here will become evident soon enough," answered Brother Michael as he swung open the large doors.

They entered an extremely large room, larger than what the outside would indicate. It was divided into three basic areas through the use of interior walls and doors. In the first area were a dozen cots, lined up like beds in a field hospital. A small table was next to each one, and the cots themselves looked relatively comfortable with mattresses, a sheet set and a blanket. The second area consisted of a series of desks, a few bookcases and a chalkboard. The final area consisted of storage for a number of farm instruments.

A number of teenagers walked freely among the three areas. They were thin, and moved somewhat listlessly. Emily moved closer to one of them, a girl no more than fifteen. Her eyes looked glassy, and her skin was sallow and drawn. Reid looked around and recognized what he saw.

"This is a detox center," he said quickly. "Where are the doctors? This isn't a safe environment for something like this," he said. "Do you know how hard it is to go through withdrawal symptoms?" Rossi shook his head. So much for being subtle about this.

"Are you treating drug addictions here?" asked Rossi, looking narrowly at Brother Michael. "You need to be licensed and specially trained to do that, even in Texas."

"And we are," he replied, pointing over to a far wall. There were a series of certificates and licenses hanging on the wall. "I'm not a medical professional myself, but we do have at least three board certified doctors on staff at all times, as well as two psychologists, and two licensed social workers who visit the compound at least three times a week. As you can see, all sharp instruments have been removed, as well as any type of rope, ligature."

"They don't appear to be supervised, at all," said Emily. Brother Michael smiled slightly.

"That's only in appearance," he said, calling forth a young man, with a wave of his hand. 'We believe in allowing the kids to try and function on their own in a supervised environment."

The young man came over, and Emily noticed that he was tired, but he didn't have the same far away glassy look in his eyes as the others.

"This is Simon Bacall," introduced Brother Michael. He's one of our licensed social workers. We insert people like him into the incoming group to monitor their progress.

"Nice to meet you," said Simon, extending his hand. "Is there anything wrong, Brother Michael?"

"No, of course not, Simon," he answered with a smile and shake of his head. "These people are just here inspecting the place." Brother Michael looked at Emily. "Perhaps Simon can show you around?"

Emily looked at Spencer and Rossi. This seemed like the perfect opportunity. With a nod of her head she started walking towards Simon.

"Lead the way."

****************

So what's in the other building?" asked Rossi, as he and Reid started to walk with Brother Michael.

"That's our second stage," he answered. Most of these kids come here having already gone through the detoxification process. We use this first stage to help them through that initial adjustment when they're realizing that the drug isn't needed to complete their life. It's a very volatile and vulnerable time."

"Approximately 54% of addicts experience relapses within the first year," interjected Reid in his usual fashion. "61% experience multiple relapses." His spoke slightly faster. Rossi took a mental note; this inspection might be hard on him. He would have to check on him after this walk through was complete.

"That's very true, Dr. Reid," replied Brother Michael. "That's why we have a two stage process. Taking smaller, gradual steps in the beginning are the best approach according to the latest medical studies."

"What about substitution treatments?" asked Reid as they exited the first building. He looked over his shoulder. He felt uncomfortable leaving Emily behind.

"Most if not all the addictions we treat here aren't usually successfully treated with substitutions such as Methadone," said Brother Michael. "We simply don't have the facilities to dispense such medication."

"So they go through withdrawal without any help?" asked Reid, incredulously.

"No, their symptoms are monitored, and we have a direct line to hospitals in Austin and San Antonio. With help, the teenagers are able to manage their withdrawal symptoms. Ah, here we are."

With that, Brother Michael opened up the door to the second building. The inside was divided into a series of private rooms, each with a bed, a small bookcase, and a radio. Rossi noted a set of communal bathrooms at the far end of the building. It reminded him of his college dorm freshman year.

"So this is the upgrade," he reasoned, looking around. "How do you monitor them here? Closed circuit?"

Brother Michael nodded, and pointed to a series of surveillance cameras. "We keep everything monitored. The other building is under surveillance as well."

"What about the kids? How do they come here?"

"The kids come here from nearby cities and towns such as Austin or Houston," answered Brother Michael. The medical staff is provided with their medical information, but beyond that, we only know their first names. Some of these kids are runaways, some are coming from violent homes. They don't really trust us, yet, so we try to provide them with a sense of anonymity to allow them some sense of security."

"But if needed, you have a way to contact a relative or next of kin?" asked Reid. Brother Michael shook his head sadly.

"Unfortunately, we don't always find them," he said. "We do our best, but a lot of times, these kids have been forgotten by nearly everyone."

"What happens when their done here?" asked Emily, as she and Simon walked over to them.

"Well, in addition to getting clean, we help them to achieve their GED, and apply to colleges," answered Simon as they joined the group. "If they're old enough, that is."

"What about foster care? Do you guys work with a caseworker?" asked Rossi.

"Yes, we do. A caseworker from Austin comes by and checks in at least once a week," replied Simon.

"Look," said Brother Michael, looking at his watch. "I've got a group meeting that I need to sit in on. Please feel free to explore as much as you want. The compound is completely at your disposal, as well as any records that we can legally provide you. Hopefully you will find what you need."

**************

Reid sat down in the chair in Rossi's hotel room. Emily sat on the nearby bed, and Rossi and Agent Jerrod stood leaning against the wall.

"So what do you guys think?" asked Hotch's voice through the speakerphone. "Is this anything we need to be concerned about?"

"I don't think so," said Emily with a small shake of her head. "Everything appears to be on the up and up. They're doing everything according to the book. What about things at your end? Did Garcia find anything about Michael Chanceton?"

"Nothing that would pique our interest," Garcia said, the faint sound of typing apparent in the background. "Mr. Chanceton is a former school teacher, with a master's in education from Columbia with a minor is child psychology. He lived for a while in San Francisco before moving down to Texas."

"Any indication of undue attention to the kids?" asked Reid looking down at his hands.

"Nope. From what I've gathered, there were no complaints, and just about everyone was sad to see him relocate."

Back in Washington, Hotch leaned back in his chair in the conference room.

"It doesn't sound like this is a place we have to worry about," he said. "What's your assessment, Rossi?"

"I agree. We should let the locals know what is happening though. Try to paint it in a good light."

"I still think I should monitor the place," said Agent Jerrod. "Just to keep the locals happy."

"Well, if you think that's its necessary, and you have the manpower, I don't see a problem with it," said Hotch. "It's getting later there. Why don't you three spend the night and fly back in the morning."

"All right," said Emily. "You guys want to grab some food? We'll see you guys back in D.C."

"Have a good night everyone."

With that, the phone line was disconnected. Rossi looked at Agent Jerrod.

"Care to join us?" he asked. Agent Jerrod shook his head.

"Sorry, but I've spent enough time away from my wife Michelle and our daughter Kelsey. They're going to kill me if I miss dinner one more time." Emily smiled.

"We understand. We'll see you in the morning?"

"Of course, I'll make sure to be there."

************

Reid sat down in the lobby chair the next morning. As usual, he was the first one up and ready. He was looking forward to returning to the BAU. Texas really wasn't to his liking. The case troubled him a bit; the kids reminded him of his own struggles, the times where the only thing he thought about was the next fix. He shook his head. He was past that now. He took out his own one year medallion and looked at it. His fellow meeting members were right. Every day was a new treasure, and the only way to live it was clean and sober.

He looked up and saw Emily walking towards him. It was almost 9:00. She must have overslept.

"Have a good night?" he asked, rising to meet her. With a sheepish smile, he remembered the laughter around the restaurant. He always enjoyed spending time with them; he finally felt accepted by at least a part of his world.

"Yeah, I finally got to sleep by the time the sun rose," she said with a smile. "Have you seen Dave?"

"Not since he tried to trample your feet on the dance floor," answered Spencer. "You must have really worn him out after I left."

"Yeah, we were setting the dance floor on fire," she said with a smile. "Why did you leave so early, anyway?"

"I was a little tired. Besides you two seemed to be having a good time. I didn't want to intrude."

Emily shook her head.

"Well, I went up shortly after you did. I guess Rossi kept the bartender company for a while longer."

"You mean you didn't stay with him?" Reid asked, raising his eyebrows. Puzzlement flashed in his eyes when he saw a faint tint of color rise in her cheeks.

Emily didn't dare open her mouth. She didn't want to accidentally give voice to her thoughts. Involuntarily her mind found Dave's face and arms, and chest back on that dance floor. With a quick shake of her head, she came out of her memory.

"We probably should call him," she said, reaching for her phone. "I don't know about you, but I want to get home."

She dialed Rossi's cell number and placed the phone next to her ear. After a few moments, she hung up.

"He's not answering," she said. Her eyes flashed with worry slightly. "He probably overslept. I'll have the front desk call his room."

Reid nodded and walked with her over to the front desk. It wasn't like Rossi not to answer his phone. True, he wasn't known to be an early riser, but still. He was always dependable.

The front desk person called up to Rossi's room. After a few moments, she hung up the phone.

"He's not answering, I'm afraid. He probably overslept," he said. With a second glance he went back to his work.

"Excuse me," said Reid, giving a sideways glance at Emily. He didn't like how pale she was looking. "Can we get a keycard to his room? He's supposed to leave on a flight with us pretty soon."

"Of course," he said as he handed over a keycard. "I hope everything is all right."

Reid took the card. The two of them walked up to the elevator.

"Pretty lax on security here," said Emily with a huff.

"Relax. We look like federal agents. This entire place is crawling with them."

"Still, I don't like how easy it was to get that card."

They exited the elevator and headed toward Rossi's room. Emily noticed that the hallway carpet had been freshly vacuumed.

They reached his door, and noticed the 'do not disturb' sign hanging on the door knob. Everything seemed to be in order. Perhaps he was oversleeping, Emily thought. It had been a long night. Emily turned the knob and opened the door. She felt a small knot in the pit of her stomach.

Spencer and Emily entered the room and stood there, taking in what they saw. The room was trashed. The mattress was halfway off the bed, a lamp was on the floor, its bulb smashed, and the cord was nearly ripped in half. Drawers were pulled out, and strewn across the place. With a sudden start, Emily went to the window.

"Reid!"

Reid joined her at the window. The large window was broken, and a large smear of blood was on the ledge, spanning both the inside and outside sills. Reid quickly moved into the main room and told the gathering crowd to leave and requested that Agent Jerrod be found. With trembling hands, Emily got out her phone out and dialed the number of the BAU.

"JJ? It's Emily. We've got a problem. We're in Rossi's hotel room. The place is trashed, and there's blood. JJ?" Emily swallowed hard, trying desperately to keep her voice in check.

"Rossi's gone."


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5- The Hunt Begins

Dave awoke to the darkness. Slowly, his eyes adjusted to the lack of light, and a dull throbbing pain began snaking up his shoulders, through the back of his neck, and it when it reached the base of his skull, a small explosion sent him reeling back towards the brink of unconsciousness. He blinked his eyes once, then twice, forcing himself to focus, to _think._

At first, all his mind's eye saw was the haze. Then slowly, with each wince, images started to emerge out of the shadows of his mind. First there was Emily, her smile welcoming, her eyes sparkling. Then the scene of them dancing together, her light and practiced feet easily avoiding his. Next came the image of Reid waving his goodbyes, and Rossi half wishing he would stay, but secretly glad he didn't. Somewhere there was a part of him that didn't want to share.

He remembered stumbling to his room, the whiskey a small comfort after Emily left, keeping his memories at bay for just a little while longer. Rationally he knew that all that happened was that she went to bed, but the demons, always at the edges of his thoughts voiced other ideas.

He was surprised in the hotel room. The person was lying in wait for him, in that darkened place just before the room opened up to his bed. Maybe he was hiding in the bathroom; Dave didn't know. They had fought, he did know that. The aches in his shoulders, arms and stomach told him as much. Somewhere in the darkness, the sickly smell of vomit reached out to him. Apparently the whiskey wasn't such a friend after all.

Dave pulled at his arms, and found them restricted. At first, the image of a marionette flashed through his mind. Then came the slow realization that he was tied up, hanging against the wall like a prisoner in a dungeon. Rossi swallowed and tried to take a deep breath; the lightening shot of pain through his side told him that a few broken ribs might have other ideas.

_Focus_

Where was he? Rossi looked around, the darkness slowly taking shape and providing him with more detail. The room was small; with effort, he could perhaps reach the other side with his legs. There was a small sliver of light coming from above him, a small window perhaps, just above his head. Rossi tilted his head back, trying to drink in the light, and found the pain unbearable.

The minimal light showed no glint of metal on the walls, no signs of a door or hinge. Rossi didn't think he was in an attic, with the door below his feet. It was too damp and cold. The door, wherever it was exactly, had to be above his head, just beyond the graying of the light.

Mentally, Dave took stock of his person. His body ached all over, but he didn't smell the metallic odor of dried blood nor did he feel the stickiness. Perhaps whoever his captor was had cleaned his wounds. He did not know.

Somewhere above him, he heard the slow creak of hinges, and a bright, blinding light flooded into his small room. With a silent grimace, he averted his eyes.

"Where are they?" a harsh voice demanded. It was a male voice. Rossi didn't know who or what he was talking about, but he had to think fast.

"Who?" he asked back, his throat burning.

With a rush, Rossi felt a blast of frigid water hit his face and head from above. Involuntarily, he sucked air inward, his body trying to lessen the shock of the cold.

"Don't tell me that, you know who! You took them away from me! Where are they?"

Rossi tried to think quickly. Apparently this man thought that Rossi was someone else. He was substituting Rossi for someone who had taken someone he loved.

"You know I've taken so many," said Rossi, trying to bring a sound of smugness into his voice. "It's hard to remember where I put them all."

"You…. You…."

"But if you bring me up there, into the light, I might remember something," finished Rossi. He hated doing this, but he didn't see any option. "I swear to God, I will."

For a few moments, there was silence from above. All Rossi could hear was the pounding of his pulse.

"God? You?" the man laughed bitterly. "You're no man of God, and you have no right to swear on his name."

With that, the man slammed the trap door shut.

Cold and alone in the dark Rossi held on to the small glimmer of hope that he had.

* * *

It is safe to say that the Comfort Inn at Red Rock never saw so much activity as it did in the next few hours. Once the FBI and police realized what had happened, the hotel was swarming with gold shields and bullet proof vests. The few civilian guests in the hotel stayed in their room, somewhat afraid to venture outside.

Hotch and the rest of the team walked into the only conference room at the Comfort Inn. It had been taken over by the San Antonio FBI field office as a base of operations. No one was certain what was going on, but everyone knew what was at stake. One of there own.

Agent Jerrod, Agent Kincaid, and other members of the FBI quickly filed into the room.

"What do we know?" asked Hotch, quickly taking command of the situation. His voice was stern and quiet; only his fellow team members knew that the his calmness hid a raging storm of anger and frustration. Agent Jerrod shook his head.

"Not a lot," he said. "Everyone agreed that Chanceton wasn't a problem. I guess we were wrong."

"Not so fast," said Emily, her voice measured. "There is nothing that we've seen so far that would indicate that Chanceton would do something like this. It goes against what we've seen so far."

Reid nodded his head. "Chanceton appears to be the classic facilitator/caretaker under the Myers-Brigg Personality type. He's interested in serving humanity, keeps everyone on a relatively tight schedule, and is habitually organized. The likelihood of him causing so much chaos in the hotel room is unlikely."

"Okay. We can't assume that it is Chanceton. What does the crime scene tell us?" asked Hotch. He needed to keep his team on track.

"According to the surveillance cameras at the hotel, Dave left the restaurant shortly after 2 am," said Garcia through the speakerphone, her fingers typing furiously. "So far, I haven't been able to get a fix on his cell phone. He's somewhere close to the cell phone towers in Austin, but beyond that I haven't gotten a fix yet."

"Keep working on it, Garcia," said Morgan, his usually warm voice a bit more businesslike. "Keep working your magic."

"You got it. Garcia over and out."

"What do we know about the unsub," asked Hotch again. He knew that Garcia would do her best to track down Rossi's GPS cell phone signal. When it came to technology, she was like a bloodhound on the sent of fox holding a steak. Nothing would stop her.

"The back window was found to be forced open, and based on the walk through that Reid and I did, it looks like the unsub waited for Rossi in the bathroom and surprised him with a blitz attack. Also, the hallway camera doesn't show anyone entering or leaving Rossi's room until Reid and I got the key," said Emily.

"Was Rossi intoxicated?" asked Morgan. It was not meant as a sign of disrespect, far from it. Morgan didn't see anyone getting the drop on Rossi, unless he had been drinking. Emily nodded with a frown.

"When I left him at the bar, he was polishing off his fourth whiskey," she said.

"That's probably how the unsub got the jump on him," reasoned JJ. "I wonder why he was drinking. I doubt he wanted a hang over for the next morning."

Emily glanced downward, her mind racing back to last night. She should have told him to slow down; she should have stayed with him. She looked up to see Reid watching her intently.

"So, we got an unsub who lies in wait, does a blitz attack, and is able to remove a strong, grown man from his hotel room through the window without being seen," summarized Agent Jerrod, brushing his hair out of his eyes. "This doesn't sound like something easy to do. Could the unsub have help?"

"You mean like an accomplice?" asked Morgan, raising his eyebrows. "It would make sense. Rossi wouldn't go down without a fight."

"There is no evidence of another person being in the room," interjected JJ looking at the preliminary crime scene report. "We can't be sure, but so far the only prints in the room have been Rossi's, Agent Prentiss, Dr. Reid, the cleaning lady, and a few unidentified partials found on the bathroom mirror. I doubt the cleaning lady had a hand in this."

"So what, are we looking for drugs?" asked Emily. "Did someone slip him a Mickey when I wasn't watching?"

"Drugs are a possibility," replied Hotch in even tones. He willed his voice to remain calm, hoping that Emily would follow suit. He saw that she was getting dangerously close to the edge. They all were.

"From the amount of blood at the scene, can we even be certain that Agent Rossi is still alive?" asked Agent Jerrod.

"We work under the assumption that he is," said Hotch. "Dave wouldn't give up on us, and we shouldn't give up on him."

He looked around the room.

"Prentiss, you, Morgan and Reid work the crime scene together. Try and get more information about the unsub. I'll work with Garcia and the San Antonio field office to see if we can narrow down our search radius. JJ, make sure Rossi's picture and information are plastered throughout the media. Someone might have seen him."

With the orders given, the conference room was emptied, and the hunt for their friend, and his captor began.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6 – The Race for Rossi

Reid watched Emily as she worked the crime scene. She was completely professional, almost as if she was willing herself to remain dispassionate. He knew better. He knew how passionate she could truly be, especially when it came to members of the team. They were her family; they had learned to accept her for what she was, despite where she had come from. She had proven herself time and time again, to him, to everyone. And now she was being torn up inside by something that wasn't her doing.

Reid looked around the room. Morgan and everyone else was busy working, talking trying to figure out something, anything that could lead them to the unsub, something that could lead them to Rossi. Reid knew that he had to remain professional, that he had to keep his emotions in check; but there was something that he had to do first.

"Emily," he said softly, coming up behind her. He noticed her back stiffening slightly, and knew that she was listening. "this isn't your fault. Remember what you said to me at the compound in Colorado? I need you to hear me. This isn't your fault."

Reid watched, dismayed as a slow tremble started snaking through Emily's body. _Damn!_ He thought. _Why do I always screw these things up?_ He watched as Emily turned around, her eyes downcast, her voice soft and low. Even without meeting her gaze, he knew that tears were there, and he wasn't sure what to do.

"I should have done something," she confessed. "I should have stayed with him. Maybe told the bartender to lighten his drinks. Something!"

Without thinking, Reid placed his hand on her shoulder. He watched as Morgan came up beside them.

"Morgan," Reid said, looking directly at Emily. "Please help me convince this stubborn woman that this isn't her fault."

"The boy wonder's right, you know," said Morgan. "But I think the only way you'll be convinced of that is if you hear it directly from Dave himself."

Emily shuddered slightly under Reid's comforting touch. Morgan's authoritative voice lent her strength. But it wasn't the same. She needed Rossi, needed to know that he was all right. She looked up at both of them, trying to blink back tears.

"So, let's find him," she said. "What do we know?"

"We know that the unsub entered through this window," said Morgan as he walked over to the only window in the hotel room. First he broke the window, opened it the rest of the way, and entered. Then he closed the blind."

"Most likely to shield the broken window from the occupant," reasoned Emily. "So, next he went into the bathroom. He was careful not to touch anything in the room, but managed to leave a few partials on the bathroom mirror. Why?"

"Maybe he needed to touch his reflection, to see if he was real. Perhaps he was conflicted about something," replied Reid. "There has been a number of examples throughout the years about unsubs being conflicted."

"You think we're dealing with a multiple personality here?" asked Morgan. Reid shook his head.

"No, multiple personality disorder is extremely rare. Besides, there is no evidence here of two distinct unsubs."

"So what we have is a conflicted male, strong, who breaks into hotel rooms, attacks grown men, and has the ability to overpower them and drag them out of a first floor hotel window without being noticed," said Emily, looking around the room. "He's violent, driven, and is convinced that Rossi did something or has something that he wants."

"True, if this was a normal kidnapping, we would have been contacted by now with a ransom demand," said Morgan, looking at the room. "And that begs another question."

"Does the unsub know that he has an FBI agent?" finished Reid. "Or is Rossi a substitute for someone else?

* * *

Rossi blinked his eyes. The pain was lessening, but he still had no real idea of where he was. He tried to think back to the trip to this location. The scattered memories came slow and sluggishly. He remembered walking into his room, and being blindsided. He remembered something coming over his face, and a sweet smell overtaking him.

The next thing that he remembered was the sound and feel of an engine. It was low and throaty, speaking of power and an engine in need of a tune-up, perhaps even a new muffler in the near future. He remember being stretched out in a back seat, no a bed. The surface was hard, metallic. Had he been in a truck bed? No, someone would have noticed a body in the open bed of a truck, even in Texas. It had to be a covered truck or an SUV. David shook his head; the popularity of those vehicles in this area meant that his memories would do little to help find the right one.

He turned his attention back to his prison. He knew that there was an entrance above him, so he had to be in a cellar of some sort. The room was small, so his best bet was a wine cellar or a small root cellar. The coldness and dampness that was creeping into him told him that it was underground or at least built into the side of a mountain. He tried to refocus his eyes, to look at shadows. He knew that if his eyes got used to them, he might be able to see different shapes. The more he knew, the more he would be able to combat his attacker.

The shadows ebbed and flowed around him, and for a brief moment Rossi felt like they were taking the shape of the various demons that he had fought over the years as a profiler. He shook his head, purposefully causing the pain to radiate into his mind once again. The pain acted as a focusing tool. Just then, he heard the hatch open again, and a flesh and bone figure entered into the world of shadows.

"So you're awake," he said, keeping just out of Rossi's reach. His voice was low and guttural. Rossi got the distinct impression that it wasn't the man's true voice.

"The sleeping arrangements leave a little to be desired," snapped Rossi. In an instant he felt a sharp pain radiating from his left side. The man stepped back, and Rossi watched the outline of a stun baton swing in front of his face.

"Sleeping? No, you're not going to sleep for some time," the man replied. "Not until you tell me what I need to know."

"Considering I don't know what that is, it's going to be a little hard."

"Where... are…they?" the man hissed, pushing the stun baton firmly against Rossi's throat. He stood there for a moment, and Rossi felt himself slipping back into unconsciousness. Instinctively, Rossi threw his body against the man. He was momentarily thrown off balance. The man laughed slightly and he stepped back.

"Are you a man of faith?" he asked. His voice had changed slightly, become softer somehow. Who was this guy? Some religious nut?

"I have to be," answered Rossi. He hoped that somehow this conversation would lead to some sort of clue.

"I had faith once; I even believed in the systems that permeate our lives. Do you know what sustained that faith?" Rossi felt the man's gaze barrel into him. His throat still felt raw, so he shook his head slowly, hoping the movement would be seen and understood.

"My faith was sustained by those that I loved, and those that loved me," he answered simply. The image of Emily's laughing face flashed before Rossi's eyes. Oh God. If he lost her…Rossi forced the idea out of his mind. He had to focus on the present.

"And someone took them away," reasoned David.

"You took them away!!!" shouted the man, once again, bringing the stun baton into Rossi, this time hitting his leg, just above the knee. "She was doing fine without your meddling. Why did you have to follow us to Texas? We were fine, we were starting over! Everything was going to be fine!"

Rossi's head was spinning, and not just because of the pain radiating from his side and leg. Followed them? What was this guy talking about? Did he even know who Rossi was?

"Wait. Slow down. Who do you think I am?"

The man laughed softly.

"Apparently a man who doesn't know the fragility of his own life," he said, turning to climb back up the ladder. With a shove, he opened the hatch, bathing himself in a soft light for a brief moment.

With a start, Rossi's eyes widened. He didn't see his face, but a glint of color in the light seared into his memory. Why did it seem so familiar?

* * *

JJ stepped down from the press podium after answering a few media questions. She had given a somewhat detailed description of the unsub, and a very detailed description of Rossi. During her time, Rossi's picture, and a contact line for the FBI San Antonio office were displayed as the background. Everyone listened attentively, and JJ knew that the information provided would blanket the airwaves in a few hours or less.

Hotch started walking beside her as she rounded the corner.

"We need to talk to Brother Michael," he said. JJ nodded.

"Even if he isn't the cause of this, he might be involved. How are the others coming along?"

"They're doing everything they can," he said. "Agent Jerrod is out leading one of the search teams, and the rest of the team is finishing up at the crime scene. We're meeting everyone in the conference room at the hotel in 30 minutes. Hopefully we'll have some answers by then. For now, you and I are going to talk to Brother Michael."

They got into their SUV and drove quickly back to the complex. They got out of the car and quickly walked towards the perimeter fence. Simon met them at the gate.

"We just heard about what happened to Agent Rossi," he said, opening the gate and letting them in. "Do you think it has something to do with the complex?" Hotch nodded his head slightly. Simon paled slightly.

"You better come and talk to Brother Michael, then," he said. "He'll know what to do."

JJ, Hotch, and Simon entered into the first complex building, and found Brother Michael repairing one of the folding chairs in the classroom area. Once he saw the agents and Simon approaching, he quickly stood up and wiped his hands on his jeans.

"Any word?" he asked, looking from one to the next. JJ shook her head tersely.

"We need to ask you a few questions," she said.

"Of course. Anything you want."

"Based on your physical similarity to Agent Rossi, our working theory is that he was taken by an unsub who mistakenly thought that he was you," said Hotchner. "Have there been any threats against you over the last few months?"

Brother Michael shook his head slightly.

"There are always some people who threaten a place like this. Most of it is the 'not in my back yard mentality,' though. When we were located up in California, we got the occasional threat from family members or friends of the kids that we try to help, but nothing specific, nothing like this."

"What were the threats like?" asked JJ.

"Like I said, they fall into two main camps. The threats about the location of the complex mainly come from conservative neighborhood groups who believe that a drug rehab center. The second type is usually from friends or family who want to pull them back into the life they led as an active drug addict. They see this program as a type cult, I guess."

"So you've had family members try and pull their kids out of the program?" asked JJ incredulously.

"Believe it or not, sometimes the biggest obstacle to an addict's recovery is their old friends and family," said Brother Michael with a shrug. "The friends and family of the addict sometimes feels that if the kid becomes sober, somehow they are left behind."

"Because they are an addict?" asked Hotch.

"Not necessarily. Sometimes it's a matter of co-dependency. It can be a mother who doesn't know what to do if she isn't taking care of her addicted son. Or it can be a father who doesn't know how to cope when he doesn't have to rescue his daughter anymore. The addicts in places like this are slowly learning how to stand on their own, without the crutch of drugs, or well meaning, but enabling families."

"You can't think of anything specific," said JJ. "Anything at all?"

Brother Michael shook his head.

"No, but I do have an idea of how we might be able to find out. Can you give me a moment?"

Hotch and JJ looked at each other briefly. Hotch nodded his head.

In a movement that was surprising given Brother Michael's age, he stood up on a desk in the classroom.

"EVERYONE!!!" he bellowed. "Everyone! Can I please have your attention! It's important!"

One by one, staff and guests of the complex turned to face him. When he had everyone's attention, he continued.

"These people are from the FBI. A few days ago, they, along with a few other agents visited this place to find out about us, and what we're trying to accomplish. We've showed them that we have nothing to hide, and that we're on a path to recovery and transformation. Agreed?"

Hotch saw a few heads nod here and there in the crowd. A few grunts of acknowledgement were heard.

"Good. They need our help. One of their own is missing, and there is the possibility that someone from our old lives might be involved. Now I know that everything is done anonymously here; only Simon and I know exactly where you've come from, and each of you know where you're going. What I'm asking is for each and every one of you to provide your name and age to these FBI agents, and the names of people who might want to harm the complex or even myself. Now, I can't force you to do this; it is completely voluntary. However, it can be a solid step towards becoming what you want, what you were meant to be."

Hotch listened as Brother Michael spoke. It was clear to see why this man became a leader. His words were powerful and straightforward. Slowly, one by one the people in the room began filing up to JJ and Hotch, providing their names, ages, and names of people who might have an interest in bringing down their new home. By the end, Hotch and JJ looked at their tiny notebooks. A few minutes later, Simon came with a partial list of previous guests of the complex. There was a wealth of information. Without a word, JJ got on the phone to Garcia.

"Garcia, I've got some names for you," she said, grabbing Hotch's notebook as well.

"Start reading them to me, sweetie," she said, her fingers poised as always over her keyboard. "I'm all set."

JJ began reading off the names to Garcia. She felt a hand on her arm, and paused to look at what Hotch was pointed at in the list of past visitors. She raised her eyebrows slightly. The man never mentioned anything like this.

"Garcia? Put the name Jerrod down on the list, and make it a priority."


End file.
